the helpless cries of an attention whore

peice 3

Unloveable but fuckable. If ive been taught anything from my horrendous endevors with love, its that a boy will do or say anything for you to spread your legs. By societal deffintion, im a whore. Ive had sex with so many people i genuinly do not know how many it is. Thats not because i just want to fuck anything that speaks to me, i dont understand the difference between love and lust. I eat up the words that they tell me and strip myself bare. I let there hands take control, and i tell myself, this is love. I drain myself trying to be enough. I drain myself trying to be the first pick. I stretch myself beyond recognition to become somebody they want. Somebody they love. But no matter what i do, no matter how much i change. Im unlovable. Im good for the night. Im easy. Tell me the rights words and ill do anything. Anything to fill my undying need for approval. Im fuckable. I can move my body in the right ways. I can make noises that resemble pleasure. Ill say all the right things and be the perfect girl. But only for a night, right? Pushing my body to its limits, taking a beautiful intimate moment and turning into a disgusting, shameful act i preform to feel even the hint of love. An overhwelming guilt fills me with every thrust, every pull, every grab, every smack. I think about the little girl deep down whos be victimized by every man shes ever known. I think about how i ruined that little girl. Turned her into an unrecognizable slut. Unlovable but fuckable. Those three words are instilled inside my head. I remind myself everyday that they dont love me, they dont even really want me. There desperate to sink there claws inside of me and rip me apart without leaving me a trace. Then they leave. Everytime i watch another walk away a piece of me goes with them. I hand it over to them with no remorse. But when its gone i crave nothing more than to have it back. Everytime i listen to what they say. I force myself to believe what they say. I know its not true, but fake love is still love. Right?